


so why don't you blow me

by litsasecret



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, One Night Stand, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-30
Updated: 2011-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-15 06:11:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litsasecret/pseuds/litsasecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam picks up a boy in the bar, who happens to be in a band. Sex ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so why don't you blow me

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to make it happy and not angst and somehow came up with this.
> 
> Written for [](http://i_amthecosmos.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**i_amthecosmos**](http://i_amthecosmos.dreamwidth.org/) on the occasion of her birthday which was yesterday. She requested a happy rarepairing fic. I got one of them! *silly jig*
> 
> Thanks to [](http://inoru_no_hoshi.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**inoru_no_hoshi**](http://inoru_no_hoshi.dreamwidth.org/) for holding my hand and for [](http://sugarpainted.livejournal.com/profile)[**sugarpainted**](http://sugarpainted.livejournal.com/) for allowing me to keep my personal standard of never posting fic that is >3k words unbetaed. Love you both the most.

Adam had been dancing with the same guy for almost an hour, which wasn't exactly what he'd planned when he'd decided to come out tonight, but it wasn't a hardship, even considering the part where the guy was all sharp edges and unreadable expressions. Adam was _intrigued_.

He'd bought drinks, some of which the guy had sloshed over Adam's shirt and some of which he'd made Adam take sips of, completely blank faced except for his eyes, which were dancing with some secret joke the first time he'd offered, and shuttered with careful consideration the second.

The guy was currently more leaning on Adam and letting Adam move them both instead of actually dancing, so Adam thought he might have some luck if he-- "Want to take this somewhere more quiet?” he shouted into the guy's ear.

The guy nodded quickly, jerkily, and started back through the crowd, one hand firm around Adam's wrist. Adam laughed and followed. The guy was slender enough to be good at navigating the crowd, and Adam could totally see the subtle nudges with bony elbows that widened gaps between people when he couldn't fit.

Adam made the guy stop so he could retrieve his jacket from the coat check, and then followed him the rest of the way out of the club.

The cool air outside hit like a snowstorm in June, making him shiver slightly.

The guy seemed to have it worse, the initial shudder turning to full bodied shakes while he wrapped his arms tightly around his chest. Adam sighed a little to himself and offered the guy his jacket.

"Thanks," the guy mumbled, squinting up at him like Adam might have some sort of motive or maybe grown a second head. At least he assumed that was what someone reserved that sort of detached curiosity for.

"No problem," Adam said. "Why didn't you bring one?" he asked.

The guy shrugged, the sort of practiced, eloquent shrug that the scenesters liked to use; the sort that exuded enough nonchalance and lack of interest to rebuke the person for even asking.

"I'm Adam," he said after a moment of awkward silence.

"Mikey," the guy said, which made Adam smile a little. He was all outward nonchalance and danced like sex, but he went by Mikey? It was probably the most adorable thing he'd heard all week, and he kind of wanted to tell people about this already, and he hadn't even gotten the guy back to his room yet.

"Did you have a place...?" Adam asked, and Mikey looked torn, biting his lip a little before shaking his head slightly. "I have a room at the Sheraton," he added. "It's pretty close by."

"Sounds better than mine," Mikey admitted. "Unless you're sharing it with someone?"

Adam wrinkled up his nose, a little grossed out. "Ew, no, I wouldn't invite you if I--"

"No, no, I didn't mean--"

Adam held up his hand. "It's cool. Should we call a cab or just--" fortuitously, a cab pulled up then, and a group of girls in stilettos and miniskirts poured out. Adam held the door for them, and as soon as they were clear, slid inside. Mikey was right behind him, and as soon as he'd closed the door and Adam had given the address, an awkward silence fell on the cab.

Adam was not good with awkward silences. "So," Adam said after several moments. "What do you do for a living?" he asked politely. The driver snorted quietly from the front seat, but Adam would like to see _him_ do any better.

"I'm in a band," Mikey said, fingers smoothing his jeans with nervous energy.

"That's cool," Adam said, grinning. "Lead guitar, right? I can tell you secretly yearn for the spotlight."

Mikey giggled a little, and Adam giggled with him.

"Lead singer maybe?" Adam offered. "Or no, I think that's more my style." He struck a pose and wondered in the back of his mind if Mikey really had recognized him in the club and was just pretending for some nefarious purpose.

"Bass," Mikey said, his fingers digging firmly into the fabric of his jeans until the knuckles were white. He looked over and caught Adam's gaze, a challenge on his face.

"Mmm," Adam said, sliding across the bench until there wasn't any space between them. "Explains how you feel when you dance against me."

Mikey shuddered, and Adam thought it was probably his voice more than his words, because he was feeling a little stupid right now, but he was hardly one to pass up a signal like that, so he moved a little closer, and curled one hand around Mikey's in his lap, the other snaking around Mikey’s neck, telegraphing his intention as well as he could before he closed the distance completely and pressed his lips to Mikey's.

Somewhat to his surprise, Mikey didn't shove him off in disgust (the guy was hard to read, okay?), instead pressing into the kiss, parting his lips and licking at the seam of Adam's.

Adam opened his mouth, and Mikey took advantage, pushing his tongue in and then pushing Adam back across the seats, pinning him and taking control of the kiss.

He ground his hips into Adam's as best he could, given the awkward angle, and grabbed a fistful of Adam's hair, tugging and forcing Adam to strain his neck to keep the angle.

After a few minutes, Mikey pulled back, again with that detached, curious expression.

"Mmm," Adam said, then licked his lips, chasing the taste of Mikey and weird fruity alcoholic drinks and trying not to gasp for breath.

"That was unexpected," the driver said, eyes clear in the rear view mirror. _He must have adjusted it,_ Adam thought wildly, even as Mikey jumped a little and looked over his shoulder at the driver.

"You're telling me," Adam said after a few seconds. "Not that I'm complaining," he added, reached to touch Mikey's cheek.

"How long?" he asked the driver.

"Not long enough," came the response, and Adam wasn't imagining the rueful tone to his voice.

In fact, the driver was pulling up to the curb at the Sheraton as they spoke, and Adam wrestled with his pants pockets and found that the smallest bill he had was a fifty. He grimaced, but shoved it into the driver's hand anyway.

"Keep it," he said, even as he scrambled out of the cab after Mikey.

Mikey was giggling again, and careened into Adam's side when they got out. Adam slung a stabilizing arm over Mikey's shoulders and grinned down at him.

"Am I that bad?" he asked, squeezing Mikey's shoulder.

Mikey just giggled more, chin against his chest, stumbling a little when they crossed the threshold from concrete carpet.

"You're drunk," Adam said, thinking about just tucking the guy into a bed and letting him sleep it off.

Mikey stopped giggling and shook his head. "Not much," he replied. "What floor?"

"Eight," Adam said, and watched with some amusement as Mikey punched the 8 and every number higher above that.

Mikey looked back up at Adam when he was done, and the edges of a smile were tugging at his lips. He was kind of unbearably attractive when he was trying not to smile, Adam thought.

It was a good enough reason to have taken him back to the room, he figured. Well, that and the thirty-odd-dollars of alcohol he'd spent on the guy, not to mention the hour on the dance floor.

Really, he'd had hook-ups for worse reasons.

He was just remembering one, a guy he'd met at a gym when he'd been feeling fat and lonely-- and not with any fondness either-- when Mikey stopped him abruptly and stood on tiptoes to kiss him again.

Adam's brain welcomed the change of subject, even though it made navigating the rest of the way to his room a little... complicated.

They almost fell when the door swung open while Mikey was leaning on it, and again when Adam forgot he'd left his suitcase in the middle of the floor and had to change course abruptly to keep from falling over it.

He stopped by the bed long enough to pull down the comforter (it was a nice hotel, but he had a terminal fear of those things, ew) and deposit Mikey in the middle, before returning to the errant suitcase and plunging in, searching for his toiletries bag.

He found the condoms and lube, allowing himself an internal dance of triumph for a half a second before he stood back up and went back over to the bed.

Mikey's shirt was gone, and his shoes, and he had his jeans undone and his hand down the front of his briefs. His eyes were closed and his nose was scrunched slightly in concentration. Adam wondered briefly what the policy on keeping boys one picked up in bars in this state was.

 _Probably illegal_ , he thought, and then considered that maybe if he could find room in his arrangements for a second bass player and Mikey was any good, that would probably be okay.

When Adam sat on the bed, Mikey opened his eyes, squinting a little at Adam. "So do you...?" he asked, gesturing a little, vaguely, but enough that Adam knew exactly what he meant. He got distracted briefly by the thought of opening Mikey up with slick fingers before sinking into him, hot and different and completely familiar--

"Not usually," Adam said, shaking his head, hoping to convey, politely, 'not with strangers.'

"Me either," Mikey said, cocking his head slightly. Adam watched the subtle movements of his hand in his pants.

"How about if I blow you first?" Adam suggested. He really liked giving head anyway, and this guy looked willing to accept a compromise.

"Only if it's really good," Mikey replied, that smile tugging at his lips again, like he was letting Adam in on some sort of joke.

"It is," Adam promised before carefully working Mikey's jeans and briefs off his body and moving long-fingered hand to make room for his mouth.

He took it slowly, slower than even he'd like, but he knew the secret to a great blowjob, especially when the recipient was the sort of warmly drunk Mikey was, and it was all about relying on the muted-sharp reactions of confused nerve endings and that took _time_ , so he mouthed gently at Mikey until he was twisting in the sheets and grabbing at Adam's hair before he even tried to slick up a finger.

He swallowed hard around Mikey as he worked his finger in, and Mikey sort of shuddered all over, whining deep in his chest so Adam figured he was making good on his promise, and spared a thought to hope Mikey made good on his, because that would be a shitty end to an otherwise nice evening.

The second finger had Mikey writhing a little, and Adam wasn’t dumb enough not to notice that it was partially from discomfort so he pulled back and withdrew completely, jacking Mikey a little with his hand and waiting for Mikey's eyes to flicker back open.

"I can stop," he said, and of course he didn't mean the blowjob, he's not a dick, and Mikey seemed to get that, because suddenly he was more relaxed, not an obvious sigh or anything, just the way his hand was now lax against the bed and the slightly shifted set of his jaw.

"No," Mikey said finally. "I'm good. _You're_ good."

So Adam dipped back down, licking daintily at Mikey's slit and moving his hand lower, angling his wrist a little more, which was uncomfortable for him, but hopefully better for Mikey.

He crooked his fingers, and only a deep sigh and the sudden presence of Mikey's hand against Adam's head showed that he'd gotten that right, but he could work with that. He built a steady rhythm, matching it with tongue and mouth, until Mikey came.

Adam swallowed neatly, then moved up to kiss Mikey, who was stumbling over an apology.

"Good enough?" Adam asked, talking over him. Mikey turned eyes bright with lust on Adam.

"I guess so," he said, but his voice was hoarse even though he hadn't made all that much noise.

Adam laughed delightedly and traced his fingers down Mikey's torso.

"Just--" Mikey said, and Adam stopped abruptly. "My brother's gonna kill me if I can't play tomorrow."

"You're in a band with your brother?" Adam asked, thinking that it was one more completely adorable fact about Mikey that made him want to keep him forever. He would have to start a list as soon as Mikey left.

Mikey gave him that curious look again. "Yes?" he said, in the vocal equivalent to his earlier shrug.

"Anyway, I'll take good care of you," Adam said. "But if you don't want to, that's up to you."

Mikey bit his lip, considering it seriously, which made Adam smile, even as he relaxed and laid down mostly on top of Mikey. He realized, belatedly, that he was still fully dressed. He sat up abruptly to unlace his boots.

His hand was kind of sticky and gross, but he'd had worse on his clothes before, so he ignored it. It was his own fault anyway. He had just started unbuttoning his shirt when Mikey spoke up behind him.

"Okay," Mikey said. "Since you-- just... okay."

"Okay," Adam replied, and nearly tore off a fingernail in his sudden hurry to get naked like five minutes ago.

He half-pounced Mikey and invaded his mouth this time, hard and messy, pulling back a little when Mikey tried to take over again to ask: "How do you want to do this?"

"My back, if that's--"

"Cool. Good. That's super," Adam babbled as he grabbed for the condoms. "Bend your knees up, okay?" he instructed as he tore into a foil wrapper. He was careful about actually putting it on though, because as much as he'd like to _keep_ Mikey, he didn't want anything bad to happen to either of them as a result of being in too much of a hurry to put a condom on correctly.

He took a moment to admire the view, Mikey all debauched and wanton, knees up and exposing himself for Adam to look his fill, and then he was overcome by urgency again, so he crawled forward, kissing Mikey lightly and squeezing his hand briefly before lining up and pushing in, a little rougher than he'd planned.

Mikey gasped, but he didn't shove Adam off, so Adam just waited. When Mikey started returning the kiss, deepening it until it was no longer just a brush of lips against lips, Adam started to move, building up a steady rhythm and kissing Mikey back.

As he had before, Mikey took over the kiss, his tongue pressing against Adam's, nipping sometimes at Adam's lips and smirking against Adam's mouth when he was helpless to do much but let Mikey kiss him while he drove into Mikey.

Mikey stroked his hands up over Adam's shoulders and down his back to his ass to pull him in harder, until each thrust drew a grunt from Mikey and Mikey had to stop kissing him too. Their mouths remained parted, but no longer touching, and they were as close as two people could ever be, breathing the same air, swept up in the same emotion, with the same hormones flooding their veins; it was that thought that drove Adam over the edge, so he came, thrusting helplessly into Mikey, entirely too soon.

After Adam had caught his breath, he adjusted them both so he wasn't crushing Mikey, pulling out and only at the last second remembering to hold the base of the condom. He tied it sloppily before tossing it away and wiping his hands on the blanket.

He burrowed his face into Mikey's neck and sighed heavily.

"So," Mikey said.

"Mmm," Adam replied, rubbing his face against Mikey's skin, letting his tongue poke out a bit for a taste of sweat and sex. He loved sex.

"I should--"

"Stay. You should totally stay. I want to keep you forever. Tommy won't mind sharing."

"Tommy won't mind sharing?" Mikey asked, a little sharply for post-sex conversation, but Adam had learned by now that Mikey was a pretty sharp guy, all edges and joints that he had to be careful of when he held him.

"I can have two bass players and then it's not kidnapping," Adam explained, muffled and slurred. His eyes slid shut, so he could no longer see the line of Mikey's jaw and neck, the feather trace of his hair.

"I'm in a band already," Mikey said, petting Adam's hair.

"Should consider it."

Mikey giggled, a short burst that died quickly. "If I'm staying, I want to sleep," he said.

"'Kay," Adam agreed, snuggling closer, already mostly there himself.

He sensed Mikey shifting him off and then the heaviness of blankets and then the returning warmth of another human being at his side.

***

Adam woke to Mikey leaving.

“Hey,” he said, not one to feign sleep in order to avoid an awkward morning after.

“Hey,” Mikey said.

“I could order us breakfast,” Adam suggested, sitting up and gesturing at the little business desk with phone and room service menu. “I don't mind.”

“It's okay. I already called my br-- I already got a ride.”

“Okay,” Adam said. “Be safe.”

“You too,” Mikey said, and he looked faintly surprised. Adam was pleased that he could draw a reaction out of Mikey, even sober.

He waited for the door to close completely before laying back down. The room smelled of sex and his back hurt a little.

He'd had way worse mornings.

 

Epilogue:

Adam paced the green room, smiling falsely at the interns with their water and cookies and offers of something stronger, shaking his head at each offer until it felt like he'd never stop.

He always felt this way before interviews, and why should today be any different from the dozens of interviews he'd sat for before?

The door opened up and a handful of people filed in, and suddenly Adam was not alone in his pacing. He looked at the other guy, instant assessment; pretty, a little shaky and hyper for his tastes, and waving an unlit cigarette like that might change state laws and let him smoke inside.

“They make a patch for that,” Adam said, calmly catching the guy's wrist. “You're making your--” he looked around the room. Band, definitely. “--band nervous, stop that.”

An even smaller guy bounced over and took the other guy's wrist from him. “Nah, we're used to it by now. It's been a couple years.”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “Sorry. You're making _me_ nervous,” he corrected. They all laughed, and something about one of the guys’ giggle was familiar, so he turned and looked harder.

“Mikey!” he said, surprised. Mikey waved a little.

“But...” and he tried to remember who was supposed to perform on this show, because he knew it wasn't him, and he couldn't pull out his phone mid-sentence to check. “You're in My Chemical Romance?”

Mikey shrugged, that same eloquent shrug.

“And you were on American Idol,” the small guy said, a grin stretching his face. “Somehow I don't think that's how you know each other,” he added, winking.

“Uh...” Adam said.

Mikey giggled again, and the guy with the cigarette scowled at Adam and looked him over, sizing him up thoughtfully.

Adam wondered if he was about to be threatened, but then his five minute warning was called and he was dragged out of the room before he could find out.

No wonder Mikey didn't want to be his back up bass player then, he figured.

It had been a stupid thought anyway.

He wore a genuine smile when he walked onstage to greet the host.


End file.
